


Crown of Twigs

by CannibalCupid



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Magic, Blood Elf Bebe, Confusion, Dimension Travel, Drama, Elf Kyle Broflovski, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Elves, How Do I Tag, Humor, I wonder where the other Stan and Kyle went to ;), It'll probably be awhile until Cartman and Kenny appear, M/M, Magic, Misunderstandings, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Ranger Stan Marsh, South Park: The Stick of Truth, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalCupid/pseuds/CannibalCupid
Summary: Kyle and Stan randomly wake up in a world similar to the fantasy game they played as kids - one where Kyle's king of an elven kingdom and Stan a noble warrior, except now it's very much real. They soon learn things Are Not As They Seem™. Kyle doesn't know how to stop an incoming war, Stan isn't sure how to be of use, a wizard stays in hiding, and a princess hasn't left her kingdom in years. Lies and deception sleep inside castle walls, and it seems like it's up to the Super Best Friends to put a stop to it.Bebe is there too, and she's tired.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. A King at Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I officially did what I promised myself I never would do; I have two long-ass incomplete stories.
> 
> Ok, ok, to be honest, I don't know how much of this I'm actually gonna do, so sorry about the plotty description, but it was an idea I couldn't get out of my head. I'm posting this first chapter to see how it does and if I'll feel like continuing.
> 
> Also, this story was partly inspired by Foxydodo's Style AU on Tumblr (their art is amazing, please go check 'em out) and the fic "Always You" by TrashKat (WARNING: It's amazing but hasn't been updated since 2018).

Kyle couldn't remember his bed being this soft.

And "soft" was probably the understatement of the century. Like, _holy shit,_ it felt as though he was sinking into a cloud made out of fucking swan feathers. Warm, cozy sheets hugged the Jew's entire bare body snuggly, making him feel like a kitten curled up against its fluffy mama (though he'd never admit it out loud). Speaking of, the bed also felt unusually bigger too. _Much_ bigger. Like he could spread out completely and not even touch the edges. The pillows his head snuggled into were warm and smelled of fresh lilies. If Kyle were to die suffocating in these lily-smelling marshmallow-ly pillows, he'd die happy.

Damn. It felt good. _Too good._ Had Kyle not been in the foggy mindset of being half asleep, the redhead may have been quicker to notice something off or at least be suspicious.

But Kyle decided to just internally assume he was having the best fucking lucid dream ever, and he certainly wasn't too keen on letting this small dose of Heaven end anytime soon. Not when his life could sometimes feel like shit, or when he stayed up late stressing over an assignment. Hell, he felt so amazing, that Kyle was tempted to just stay in bed and _be late_ for school. Surely he wouldn't miss _too_ much, right? First period was usually pretty slow and Kyle was a hard worker, he reasoned self-consciously. He got good grades, plus plenty of people owed _him_ for letting them borrow his notes. So yeah, Kyle could treat himself for _just_ five more minutes.

Kyle usually self-consciously began to wake up right before the beeping started, and his alarm clock hadn't even gone off yet, so maybe he wouldn't even be late!

Kyle sighed dreamily at that thought, as a peaceful smile crept upon his face and he snuggled deeper into his pillows. Man, maybe, and just maybe, he should go to sleep earlier if a good night's rest made him feel like-

_**BANG BANG BANG** _

Of fucking course.

Kyle groaned. He adjusted onto his side and pulled his blanket over his head as if it would help block out the pounding assault on his door, which seemed to echo throughout his room. Kyle bet his pouch of Jew gold that it must've been from his uptight mother. What the hell? Had his alarm not gone off?

_No._

Right now, Kyle's stubbornness was through the roof, so the Jew didn't even bother to check because he _specifically_ remembered setting the clock's alarm to 6:00 a.m. - right before he went to bed, as he did for every weekday. So what the hell was her problem?

"Five more minutes, Mom!" he called out, barely holding back a cuss. He held his eyes shut determinedly tight the entire time, just as a sign of petty rebellion.

The banging abruptly stopped. Good. She must've gotten the message. Kyle sighed in relief, attempting to fall back asleep. However, he immediately found it impossible to sink back into the soothing feeling of peace his unusually soft bed had brought him.

 _Great,_ he thought bitterly. _Thanks, Mom._

Kyle was just about to roll out of bed, but someone apparently decided to help.

By throwing his sheets off his body.

Kyle's eyes snapped open in fury. Cold air enveloped his now exposed skin that had been content under his blanket.

Ok, that was it.

Kyle sat straight up and opened his mouth to tell off the mad-lady (because what the actual hell was she doing?), but found himself suddenly stopping mid-yell.

His eyes had landed on his culprit who had thrown the sheets off of him.

He stared.

Bebe.

_Bebe._

Fucking. _Bebe. Stevens._

Was standing at his bed.

Staring down at him.

While he had nothing but underwear on.

Now wide awake, Kyle exploded.

" _ **WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?"**_

Bebe's eyes widened from the outburst (Why the fuck was she surprised? How did she expect she would react?), but she kept her composure, staring daggers down at the screaming redhead.

"Um, excuse me? What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing?" she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at him. " _You're_ late for the morning meeting!"

Kyle did a double-take.

"What morning meeting?" Kyle had never been apart of a study group before fucking six! And since when did Bebe want to be a part of any meeting?

"Uh, the one we have every day!" she told him like it was the most _obvious thing in the fucking world._

Kyle shook his head in disbelief, absolutely flabbergasted. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but whatever the hell it is, it doesn't _warrant you breaking into my fucking room!"_

The bitch rolled her eyes so hard they almost did a three-sixty. "Well, _so-rry_ I'm not your darling _Stanley,_ but-"

" _ **WHAT?"**_

Ok. Alright. Kyle was done. This was too much. WAY too much. Kyle needed to get up and get his mom. Maybe even get the fucking police because he had a crazy bitch who'd somehow broken into his house and was _screaming_ in his face about how he apparently did fucking _Stan and-_

Kyle noticed something other than Bebe.

And…

Kyle's main line of vision had wandered past the angry chick, and onto the setting, he thought he knew.

Holy shit.

The redhead's train of thought broke through the sanity walls, ran off the tracks, then proceeded to plummet down a fiery canyon.

Kyle had been so focused on Bebe and sleeping that he hadn't even noticed his room.

And how he wasn't in _his_ room.

Rather, he sat in a _huge_ room. At least five times bigger than his own, and built like a five-star hotel or something you'd see straight out of a fairytale book. The floors and walls looked to be pure, white marble, the latter decorated with all types of different plant life across, which looked incredibly real.

The description did the bedroom an incredible injustice. Kyle would've noticed, and perhaps admired more, but almost as soon as he realized he sat in a bed which wasn't his, the teen had begun to feel dizzy.

"Sire?" Bebe was now looking down at him with concern etched in her features, the anger seeming to have melted away.

It took everything Kyle had not to pass out then and there, though that didn't mean he could keep his breathing under control.

"Where… the hell… did you take me?" He asked in a low growl through shallow breaths.

Bebe frowned, now just looking confused.

"Your High… _Kyle…_ I don't know what you're talking about."

" _ **CARTMAN!"**_ The Jew suddenly screeched, causing Bebe to flinch. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of it as soon as he realized he wasn't in his house? " _He_ put you up to this, didn't he?" Kyle let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I bet he's just laughing his fat ass off somewhere at the screaming Jew, huh? Well, you can tell him he can-"

Something smooth and soft suddenly smacked across the teen's mouth, muffling his speech. He glanced up, eyes somehow wider, only to find that Bebe had managed to move as quick as a whip, and now grasped her small hand over his mouth. The other one held tightly onto his shoulder. Not only that, but she was _uncomfortably_ close, their noses nearly touching. The only thing that kept Kyle from shoving the blond away, was the absolute _burning fury_ that blazed through her eyes. Holy hell, she looked ready to _fight_ him!

"Who are you?" she hissed out.

Kyle felt his eyebrows knit together. "Hmph?" he questioned

Bebe took her hand off the redhead's mouth and quickly clutched both his shoulders.

Somehow, she whispered even quieter, sending chills down Kyle's spine. And once again - what the _hell?_ Since when was he afraid of Bebe? ( _Not_ counting the weird crush she had on him in the fourth grade)...

(Or when she pulled a gun on them because of an ugly tier list).

"King Kyle of the Drow elves would never, _ever -_ not in a million years - _ever_ think I betrayed the kingdom for that snake of a wizard."

The Jew simply stared.

_Drow elves_

He felt every word sink in.

_Wizard_

Kyle blinked.

_King._

He blinked again.

_King Kyle._

"What?"

Apparently not satisfied with his honest question, the pissy blond squeezed the helpless teen's shoulders harder, _sharp-ass nails_ digging into his exposed skin.

"What the - _OW!_ Cut it out you crazy bitch!" Kyle attempted to squirm out of her vice grip, but damn it - she was _strong._

"Answer. My. Question."

"I don't know!"

"You don't know your own name?" She dug harder.

Kyle spat out everything. "It's Kyle! Fucking Kyle Broflovski! I'm from South Park Colorado, and I don't _why_ I'm here, I don't why the fuck _you_ of all people are talking about D&D shit, I just woke up here, _**SO WOULD YOU PLEASE LET GO OF MY FUCKING ARM!"**_

Not a second later, Bebe obliged.

Kyle cursed under his breath, and instinctively scooted away from the blond who was still too close for his liking. He looked over at his left shoulder and... holy… the bitch actually drew some blood!

"Do you know where we are?"

He looked back at her.

"What?"

"You heard my question."

Kyle scowled. He didn't want to say another word, but the fear of… _fucking Bebe,_ doing more than just digging her nails into him won out.

"No. Why would I know where I am when I'd gone to bed in my own room and suddenly woke up here?" to his slight embarrassment, the redhead's voice had begun to crack at that last statement.

Kyle could feel his breathing start to pick up again. Saying it out loud really made the dread sink in.

"You're shaking."

"Tch. Yeah, why do you think?" What was with the sudden concern? Now she wanted to play soft right after drawing _blood_?

Bebe stayed silent for a bit longer, looking deep in thought, like she was searching for the final piece of a puzzle.

"Not even the country?"

Kyle scoffed, growing annoyed. He'd probably been drugged. That was the only way he could think of how he'd been dragged here without waking up.

"We could be in fucking Japan for all I know."

The color drained from Bebe's face so fast you would've thought she'd been bleached.

"Good Seldarines, what did that bastard do to you?" she mumbled in a voice so soft, and so _terrified,_ Kyle almost didn't recognize it as Bebe.

"Wha-"

"We need to go." Before Kyle could argue, strong Bebe grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of bed, dragging him towards the huge double-doors.

Kyle still didn't have any clothes on.

" _Woah, woah, woah, hold up!"_ the redhead grounded his heels into the marble tile, just managing to pull the both of them to a halt. Still holding his wrist, Bebe turned and glared. Kyle didn't falter his own.

"Bebe, what the _hell_ is going on? You haven't answered _one_ of my questions! Like, why am I here? Why are you here? Oh, and - where _the fuck_ am I?"

The blond snatched her hand from his, then turned to face him completely, now giving Kyle a great view of not only her body ( _not_ like that) but what she was wearing _._ And like it was all he knew how to do, Kyle could only continue to gawk in confusion.

Bebe had on a dark, empire-style ruby-colored _silk_ dress. It fit her figure perfectly, as if the universe had created it just for her. His eyes then landed on the black, velvety sash which stood wrapped around her hips, and tied into a neat bow. An intricate pattern of tightly threaded golden leaves encrusted and shined off the dress's U-neck, as well as its hem, which radiated off the red like canary amongst cardinals. And whether or not the dress was sleeveless, Kyle didn't know, since the thin bolero jacket - the same obsidian black as her sash - enclosed around lean shoulders and up to her wrists. Her new look was finally completed with a silver tiara that wrapped around her head, with a glistening ruby at its center, which he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before.

Had conditions been different Kyle may have described it as nothing less than stunning.

But ok, yeah, Bebe could be a hardcore fashionista and all, but… just… how _?_ Where _? And why?!_

Kyle was about to again ask her again what the fuck was going on, but one glance up at her face, and the teen suddenly felt a rock begin to settle in his stomach. Bebe's grim expression alone told Kyle deep down this wasn't some kind of joke. And that somehow terrified him more.

"You really don't know, Sire?" she asked quietly one more time, sounding… almost _sad_ and _hurt._ Even if that didn't make sense to him, Kyle felt his anger begin to deflate.

So he solemnly shook his head. "I don't. And I sure as hell don't understand why you're calling me 'Sire.' Is it some kind of new kink?"

Bebe's eyes turned to saucers and her cheeks a strawberry red after those words left his lips. It was hard to tell whether that had made her mad or embarrassed, but it certainly looked like she had the urge to slap him square across the face. Kyle knew the question wasn't exactly appropriate, but right now, he couldn't give two shits. He had no clue _what_ to think right now.

Bebe then took in a deep, long breath, seeming to collect herself.

"Just… I don't know how to explain stuff you should already know. I'm just as confused as you are, but I think we'll both have our answers if you follow me. I gotta check something."

Kyle didn't reply. He simply stood there, taking it all in. He still hadn't an idea what she was talking about, and what he should "already know"- but for some unexplained reason, Bebe definitely seemed to know more than him when it came to wherever the fuck he was. So, whether Kyle liked it or not, the girl who'd been hardly more than an acquaintance (no, the breast incident _did not_ count) for years, looked to be his only form of help. Even if this all still felt sketchy as all hell. But even if Kyle were to tell Bebe to screw off, what would he do then? Again, the redhead didn't even know what country he stood in right now! Plus, the odds of someone else he knew being here, didn't seem all that likely.

"Fine, just…" Kyle looked down at his nearly clothless body, feeling his cheeks heating up. "Let me put something on."

Bebe turned even redder, as if just realizing she'd done all the dragging and poking while Kyle was 90% naked.

"Fine, just be quick. You're lucky the guards trust me enough to leave when I came to wake you and didn't hear you screaming." And of course, before Kyle could ask what "guards" she was talking about, Bebe left in a rush, closing the door behind her. Though he could've sworn he also heard her muttering frustratingly about a "personal guard" who hadn't shown up as well, moments before she slipped out. And Kyle didn't know what to think of _that._

Despite the previous conclusion Kyle had drawn, a part of him wanted to believe his heavenly dream had transformed into a nightmare. But the hauntingly _real_ pain that had come from Bebe's nails, plus a quick, hard pinch to his arm, quickly disproved that theory.

So he felt there was nothing to do but get dressed and trust Bebe.

Despite the creepy situation, a chunk of the redhead felt a strong urge to explore the strange, but lavish bedroom. Damn it, he hated how he almost felt _special_ and _important_ being here, just because of how… well _royal_ everything seemed. It looked like a palace someone would pay good money to tour in Europe.

Was he in Europe?

Well, Bebe still seemed to be his best bet in getting an answer, so Kyle swallowed down his curiosity and threw on the first piece of full clothing he saw; a red robe with similar gold highlights as Bebe's, shrouding a chair by the fireplace. No hat, unfortunately, leaving his mop of red hair exposed like a dark wildfire atop his head. Plus, the closest shoes were a pair of brown, leather sandals by the bed. What a fashion statement.

Sighing, Kyle went up to the doors, but just as the tips of his fingers brushed the extravagant architecture, the Jew found himself hesitating.

It suddenly hit Kyle that he didn't know _what_ lay outside the doors. Sure, he hadn't been here long, but the room seemed pretty safe so far, and definitely hospitable. Yet the overly niceness of it all could be a way to just butter Kyle up, lulling him into a false sense of security (which, he supposed, jokes on them, because Kyle felt like he could explode from the nerves swirling inside). How could he still be sure this all wasn't some kind of big prank, and Bebe was about to lead him to the most humiliating moment of his life?

Kyle looked behind him, glancing at a pair of dark red curtains that blocked off a large window. An idea suddenly blossomed in the Jew's head. If there was a window, it meant a clear path _outside._ Outside meant _people._ And a possible way back home. Yes. He could just check the outside, possibly confirming where he'd been kidnapped to, then -

The door opened, and Bebe yanked him out by his robe.

Well, that plan was ruined.

" _What the - !"_

Her hand again smacked over his mouth, and she again glared at him with those burning eyes.

" _Shh!_ We can't let the guards know something's wrong with you," the blond whispered sharply.

Kyle brought her hand down, biting back the insult - "Wrong with me? The hell is wrong with you?" but instead settled for more kindly - "What guards? Are… are we…" Kyle trailed off for a moment, suddenly distracted by the new setting he'd been pulled into; a hallway, and a wide one too. Pale grey columns melded into the pale grey walls, holding up the high ceiling. The latter of which had broad chandeliers hanging down, as what looked to be wax candles burned brightly from atop, awarding light to the duo's surroundings. Kyle couldn't see anyone else.

He shifted his focus back to Bebe, frowning. "Are we in a castle?" Kyle had half-jokingly thought about it earlier, but he hadn't actually _expected_ to have randomly woken up in a full-fledged _palace._

Once again: what the fuck?

Bebe's face scrunched up into an emotion completely undecipherable. She almost looked queasy.

"Is this another thing I should _already know?"_ Kyle asked, almost sarcastically.

Bebe merely sighed, then grabbed his hand, muttering -

"I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna kill that conniving lying two-faced scheming human wart…" and much more that he didn't want to repeat.

Kyle didn't object to being dragged this time. Partly because his brain felt like it would shut down because of the hundreds of "What The Fuck" moments in the span of ten minutes that would put the Peru incident to shame.

But also since he was (albeit a bit begrudgingly) sure that without Bebe, he'd get lost (how she seemed to be an expert on this place was something he _still_ couldn't wrap his head around, but whatever, she didn't seem too keen on telling him). Plus, just to add to the hundred-page list of things he didn't know right now, Kyle didn't know what crazies could be lurking around the corner. At least, from what Bebe said, he didn't _seem_ to be a prisoner or enemy (Kyle still couldn't accept _king)._ And sure, Bebe had dug her finely manicured nails into his bare skin like a crazy bitch, but…

Well, ok, he couldn't exactly think of a good rebuttal to make that seem reasonable. Point was, Kyle felt like he was experiencing a drug trip similar to the one Kenny described when the blond was (literally) high on life.

(Kyle knew deep down this was all real in a strange sense, but the humor helped to keep him grounded.)

Well, the trip was much less confusing and much less long than Kyle initially thought it would be. He'd been under the impression they'd travel through hallways, to tight corridors, down stairways, and through long hallways again. But instead, Bebe simply led him to a room just a couple of corridors down (so why did she have to hold his hand like he was a toddler?).

She let go once they stood before it.

"Don't ask me what room this is," she told him plainly.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then why are we here?"

The blond answered more pointedly this time, as she opened the door and stepped inside.

"To see if your belo - ... _Stan's_ been cursed the same way."

Without thinking, Kyle followed her in. "Cursed?" Well, ok, he supposed _cursed_ wasn't completely off the table of an explanation of what happened to him, but that raised the question --

"What does Stan have to do with --" he stopped.

Kyle felt his breathing hitch.

Bebe had led him to another bedroom. It was a similar layout to the one Kyle had woken up in, but had blue as its primary color, plus a more compacted, simple but rustic look, rather than floral (why did he have to get the flower room?)

But that's not what caught Kyle's eye. No.

Black straight hair, that of a raven's wing, poked out from the sheets. Even if his head faced the opposite direction, Kyle knew.

It was the person he'd known as long as he could remember.

 _Stan_ lay fast asleep in a twin-sized, navy blue bed. The redhead could pick up soft snores, which seemed to echo throughout the otherwise empty space of sound. Kyle felt his stomach do a somersault at the sight, even though his best friend looked as peaceful as a newborn lamb. _Stan Marsh_ was here too. Looking back, Kyle probably should've expected it as soon as Bebe mentioned they were going to see if he'd been "cursed" the same way as him, apparently.

"Are you gonna wake him up?"

Kyle snapped his head towards the blond chick. "What? Wait, no," now ignoring her question, he pointed at the sleeping boy in bed, "Why is _he_ here?" Oh, god, had Stan been kidnapped too?

Bebe let out a melodramatic groan that said - "I've been putting up with this shit for way too long."

"I can't take this anymore! Great Seldarines - you two _live he -"_

"Mhm…"

Kyle's head whipped around so hard he could've _sworn_ he heard it crack; nonetheless, the redhead felt his heartbeat start to race at the sound and sight of his best friend suddenly stirring. Shit. In a moment and without thought, Kyle stood by his(?) bed. The Jew's mind began to panic: what was he supposed to say exactly? Would Stan even be surprised, or was it just Kyle lost on what's going on? If Stan freaked out, then how would Kyle be able to calm him down when he himself was on the verge of a mental breakdown?!

Unfortunately, before Kyle could come to a conclusion on what to do, the black-haired teen's eyes blinked open; albeit slowly. His face scrunched up into the familiar annoyance of suddenly being woken up. Though, to Kyle's relief, he didn't flip out. The only reason Kyle could think that his friend didn't was because the redhead knew where the Marsh's kept their spare house key, and would sometimes come over as if he lived there. So Instead, Stan merely squinted up, a disoriented glaze overlapping his blue spheres.

"K… Kyle?" He slurred in a confused whisper.

"Uh…" _Shit shit shit -_ "Uh-huh," he confirmed like a moron.

Stan rubbed at his eyes, and began to sluggishly sit up, now completely facing Kyle and -

Woah.

The redhead felt his jaw drop, eyes gawking.

The. Fuck.

Stan had a _scar._ A fucking _scar_ on his _face_. Not a scratch, or a fresh, crusted wound, but a full-fledged blemish - and fuck, it looked like he'd been cut _deep,_ with the thing looking _years-old._ Kyle once again did a double-take — hell, he rubbed at his eyes just to check again. Yeah, it was still there. The thing sat right under Stan's right eye, starting right at the bridge of his nose, ran through the upper cheek, and ended mere _skin_ cells away from his eye-socket.

Kyle continued to stare. Then he stared. And he stared some more.

 _It's fake,_ was his first thought after Kyle's brain started back up.

Kyle was honest-to-god about to touch it. He was going to openly run his finger across Stan's face (as bros did) so he could fucking _confirm_ that damn thing was fake — some kind of ultra convincing Hollywood makeup, just to again screw with his head.

But he didn't get to, because Stan had apparently found his clear line of sight -- at least for what stood right in front of him. Stan frowned in puzzlement and squinted hard at Kyle as if he too was trying to confirm what he was looking at.

Now, Kyle truly thought that nothing more about today could top the loop he'd been thrown into.

He shouldn't be surprised after all that had happened.

But the Jew certainly hadn't been expecting Stan's next sentence.

"The fuck is wrong with your ears?"


	2. Zaron

Kyle frowned, confused. Ok, well, he hadn't expected _that_ of all things.

"What?" he blurted out without thinking. His ears? What the fuck could be wrong with his ears? Wait, scratch that, forget about Kyle's ears -- what about Stan's _face?_

Actually, you know what? No. No no no no _no_. The Jew _refused._ Absolutely _refused._ Today -- no, _the morning_ alone had already been batshit crazy enough. Kyle didn't also need something to be wrong with his _fucking ears_ out of all things.

Scar-faced Stan then rubbed at his eyes looking up, still appearing a bit too disoriented to totally comprehend the situation. "Dude, _your ears…"_ he repeated. "They look… look..." he suddenly trailed off, the words seeming to die on the tip of his tongue. Kyle had a feeling he knew exactly why. Stan lowered his hands from his face and sat up straighter, eyes slowly coming back to life as he gazed over every single detail, blue spheres growing in a wide terror. Oh boy.

"Stan -- "

"What the -- this… this isn't… " the Marsh's suddenly eyes caught Bebe, and almost seemed to choke on air, spluttering. "Wha… you… w-why are… you - I…" He continued rambling simple words and the same questions over and over again, like his brain had been hacked and was now stuck in a loop. At the same time, his eyes ping-ponged back and forth to Bebe, the room, Kyle, and back to Bebe.

Kyle made himself ignore the ears comment, and instead placed himself on the bed's center and grabbed Stan's shoulders, forcing the mumbling raven-haired boy to face him.

"Stan."

The teen in question continued to stare helplessly like a protestant amongst a society of horny priests, eyes darting back and forth at everything but Kyle.

"Stan, _look at me."_

It took a moment for him to listen. Above even his own pounding heart, the redhead could hear his best friend's breathing begin to pick up rapidly. Unlike Kyle, who'd become extremely defensive when he woke up in the new environment, Stan seemed to be shutting down entirely. Perhaps even close to having a panic attack, which was _nothing_ like Stan.

Thankfully, the startled teen seemed to find his voice, albeit shakily. He clutched Kyle's arms like they were the only thing he believed was real.

"K-Kyle… where -- "

"I don't know, Stan," the redhead answered rather bluntly, forcing himself to not look at that huge-ass scar. "I just woke up here too."

Stan stayed silent. Though his mouth stayed agape as he lowered his head, staring down at his lap with an unreadable expression. It was quiet for what seemed like a while, as Stan held his best friend's arms with shaking hands.

An awkward cough interrupted the silence. Bebe. Stan turned to her and again gaped at the new sight, as if just realizing she'd been here the whole time. He shook his head in disbelief. Stan immediately let go of Kyle, then pointed at the girl with a shaking hand.

"Why… why is she -"

"I live here," the blond interrupted in a flat tone. Kyle didn't even bother to question the statement, unlike Stan.

"What?"

Bebe sighed. "I think we should talk."

Kyle nodded.

"Kyle?" Stan questioned as Bebe joined them on the blue bed.

"Yeah?"

"Am I high?"

Kyle actually chuckled at that. "Did you drink last night?"

Stan grimaced. "Unfortunately not."

The redhead again found himself breaking a smile. He knew Stan still wasn't mentally contemplating all of this (hell, neither was Kyle, of course), but it made him glad to see the Stan he knew to confirm Kyle _wasn't_ absolutely losing his sanity.

Bebe then pretended to clear her throat, apparently hating happiness. "So." She said in a tired voice, folding her hands together as she stared at the both of them cautiously, then spoke once both boy's attention was on her. "Neither of you know where we are?"

Stan spoke first. "What? Why would we -- "

Then what seemed to be out of nowhere --

_"It's a yes or no question!"_

Stan's eyes widened, also apparently surprised at this new, adamant Bebe. "The fuck, Bebe?" he whispered.

Almost instantly, the blond slightly crumbled before letting out an exhausted sigh. She bowed her head apologetically in a dutiful manner. "Apologies, Ranger Marshwalker," she stated, the words almost sounding like they'd been said out of habit. Kyle almost felt bad. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but it suddenly became apparent how stressed Bebe was beginning to look.

But of course, back to today's confusion --

_Stan Marshwalker? Wait, like --_

"Uh... Bebe, it's alright," Stan replied awkwardly, though even if he didn't say it aloud, Kyle could definitely see Stan was also weirded out by the regal title. "Just… why are you calling me -"

It didn't take much for the stressed blond to snap again. "Gods, I don't know, only what everyone's been calling you for —"

 _ **" Ok!"**_ Kyle put his hands up, interrupting the two from becoming politicians and entering a battle of screaming confusion. Kyle was beyond fed up with this bullshit, plus a migraine was beginning to pulse through the Jew's head from stress, which certainly didn't help his temper. " _Look_. We're obviously all under different impressions on what's going on, so -- just to possibly figure out what the fuck is going on - why don't we all go around and ask each other a question? The person who's asked something has to answer honestly, no matter how stupid it may sound to them -- and _one_ question per turn."

Stan and Bebe stayed silent, looking at each other as if expecting the other to speak first so they could argue. Stan had finally let go of Kyle, looking a bit calmer now, but still shaky and clearly disoriented by everything happening around him. Bebe sat there with the annoyed expression of a teenager who'd been dealing with unstable toddlers.

Well, they hadn't objected to the idea, so that was good enough for Kyle.

"I'll go first," he offered when they only continued to stare at him. Kyle faced the blond who'd Kyle had woken up to. "Bebe, where are we?"

She scoffed, still looking very much annoyed. "Stan's bedroom." Once again, the blond answered as if this was common knowledge to them.

"This is _not_ my -- !"

 _"I answered honestly!"_ she snapped back.

"You don't think I know my own -- "

**_"SHUT UP!"_ **

They shut up.

 _"Sorry, Lord,"_ Bebe again mumbled. Stan gave her a weird look but said nothing.

Kyle took in a deep breath while running a stressful hand through his curls, just a few more screams away from yanking them out. "Ok. So. _This,"_ he gestured around, "is apparently Stan's bedroom." (He ignored the loud scoff from the other teen). "Great. But Bebe, I meant -"

"You already got your question," she interrupted harshly. "My turn."

Kyle clenched his teeth hard, and quite literally, bit back an insult. "Ok, _fine. Go ahead."_

Bebe glanced back and forth at the both of them. "Where do you two _think_ you're from?" Kyle had answered this earlier, and he knew Bebe probably remembered, but the question this time around now sounded like a test -- specifically aimed at the Jew's friend.

Stan answered first. "South Park, Colorado. Where, last time _I_ checked, is where _you_ live -- "

"God, Stan, just _shut up,"_ Kyle once again cut-off before another stupid fight could break out (he couldn't blame Stan for being like this - not at all - but _God,_ it felt like they were running around in circles.) "It's your turn."

Stan pursed his lips though he didn't argue. "Ok then, Kyle, what the fuck is up with your ears?"

Kyle all but groaned. Shit. He'd ignored the question earlier, so he should've expected this. It now seemed like the redhead had no choice but to find out what the raven-haired boy was talking about. Fine. See if he cared when Stan flipped out over the overnight slash through his face.

Bebe, however, frowned in genuine confusion. "I don't see what's wrong with them."

Stan gave her a look that said nothing but -- "What the fuck do you mean?"

"But… they're _pointy."_

_Oh, god._

"Yeah, _and?_ He's an _elf."_

 _"OH GOD."_ he shrieked aloud this time, causing the other two to snap their attention towards the Jew and look at him like he was crazy. Then, and against his better judgment or wants, Kyle's hand began to carefully creep up, making its way towards the side of his head. Fingers then ran over the soft flesh of his earlobe; it felt the same (though Kyle had never had an earring, so he couldn't ever recall playing with it). His hand then moved up, making its way to the helix, where that part of the ear _should've_ been curved, ending into the side of his head like an archway.

But it didn't.

Instead, to Kyle's horror, his hand continued to move, up and up soft the skin, until it reached a pointed tip, long, delicate, and certainly _real_ because Kyle could _feel_ his hand running across… across...

 **_My_ ** _elf ears._

Bebe then spoke up. "I don't see why this is a big deal."

Stan ignored her this time, his attention completely on Kyle, merely staring at his best friend with shaken concern.

Kyle didn't want to believe it. God damn it -- he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and hopefully wake up back in his bed. But if Kyle was sure of one thing, it was that he was _not_ an idiot. And this non-idiot could clearly see this wasn't a dream or drug trip, and that the redhead was running out of non-paranormal options.

"Bebe… you… you said something about a _curse_ earlier."

Stan immediately perked up at that. "Curse?"

The blond sighed, looking a bit relieved that they were about to get somewhere. "Yes, which is _why_ I wanted to come in here, but I needed to ask you some things, just to be sure."

"Well, are you?" Kyle queried, unable to pull his hand away from the fabled ears sitting at his head's side. They truly were the turning point in all this; in what the redhead believed what was actually going on. Kyle could feel his mind finally begin working, as he replayed morning and made its way up to the present.

"One hundred percent," she answered confidently.

He'd thought at first he'd been drugged, but Kyle hadn't woken up groggy or with a fuzzed mind; hell, he'd never felt fresher or so well-slept before. And even if he was kidnapped, how would the kidnappers have broken into his house without so much as a peep _and_ be able to carry him (and Stan) without waking him?

Stan spoke next. "So... you think Kyle and I... were _cursed?"_

They were in a castle -- or at least a place which felt like a castle. Why would he be taken to a castle? One which Bebe clearly knew well, and she even claimed to live in? The blond had also seemed extremely confused when the two of them mentioned their hometown as if she'd never even heard of it.

"Yeah."

Stan stayed silent.

King Kyle of the _Drow Elves_. Ranger Stan _Marshwalker. Wizard_ Cartman. That couldn't be a coincidence. Kyle had hardly given it much thought before since Bebe had talked about it so off-handedly, plus they hadn't played that Hobbit shit since they were ten. Yet now, it was all coming back. Kyle looked down at the robe he'd thrown on, cursing himself for missing the connection earlier; red with golden highlights. Just like the one he wore as "ruler" of the Elven Forest.

"Bebe," Kyle gazed up at her, expression serious.

"Yes?"

"Ok, look, I know this is going to sound really dumb - but I swear to god I don't know - so I'm asking you sincerely what planet we're sitting on."

To his relief, the blond didn't snap back with a snarky retort, and didn't even look all that weirded out. She answered with a single word.

"Zaron."

A silence like no other befell the trio. Bebe because she seemed to be waiting to hear what the two boys would say -- Stan and Kyle said nothing as they fully let the confirmation sink in.

Until Stan spoke, playing catch-up.

"Wait a minute... Zaron? Like... the place we made up for that roleplaying game we played as kids?"

Bebe frowned. "Roleplaying?"

Kyle ignored her and nodded to his best friend. "Yeah, but..." he swallowed. "Dude, I can't fucking believe I'm actually saying this, but…" he took in a deep breath, "I think... I think we might actually be _in_ Zaron." A part of Kyle almost wanted to gag because of how stupid that sounded out loud.

Stan's eyes protruded, his eyebrows narrowing. "What? Dude, I know we've been through some crazy shit but -- "

Bebe decided to interrupt. "You're in Zaron, Stanley."

He spluttered. "But... how -- "

"Does it have anything to do with that _curse_ you were talking about?" Kyle drilled.

Bebe bit at her lip, before eventually nodding. "I -- yeah, most likely. At first, I thought he'd just turned you two insane or took away your memories... but now..."

Kyle and Stan both asked the same thing. "Who?"

"The Wizard."

Kyle immediately knew.

"Cartman?"

She nodded. "Yeah... but..." she gazed steadily at the both of them. Kyle suddenly caught a glimpse of something small in her eyes. Small and slightly burning with a clear determination, yet also the flame also seemed mere seconds away from death.

Hope.

She was hoping. Hoping she was wrong.

"Neither of you two... have _any -- zero_ recollection of being in the castle at all? Of your status? The kingdom? _Nothing?"_

Kyle felt like he'd just been punched hard in the gut when hearing the slight break in the blond's tone, like she so desperately wanted to be wrong, but knew she wasn't. Nonetheless, not wanting to cause more confusion by saying - "Ah, well, you see, Bebe, I guess we know about that, but that stuff was only things we made up as kids," he instead opted for the simpler, straight forward answer.

"No."

"Me neither."

Now it seemed to be Bebe's turn to start breathing unevenly, though she was clearly still trying to appear calm and stabler than a tower's base. Her posture still sat stiff as a board, while she'd clasped her hands even tighter, the two limbs turning white. She seemed to contemplate for a while before asking --

"Where did you say you're from again?"

"South Park," Stan answered.

"On Earth," the redhead added.

 _"Earth,"_ she repeated bitingly, like a child tasting something sour for the first time and didn't know what to think of it. "And you... have other memories, right? On... _Earth._ Of your lives, your friends, the planet's history?"

"Um... yeah? I think we'd know." Stan answered. He then frowned, turning his attention to Kyle, still looking skeptical. "So... you _really_ think we're… we're in…" the words seemed to fade into thin air, like Stan's confidence in his own doubt of their situation.

Well, as sure as the Jew was starting to feel, words could only go so far.

Kyle then promptly slid off the bed as his answer to his friend, leaving Stan with an empty question. With two pairs of confused eyes on him, the redhead then walked over to the pair of large blue curtains. Neither he nor Stan had seen outside yet, but Kyle was willing to go out on a limb and say that he wasn't about to see the snow-covered fields of the mountain town of South Park.

Fed up of stalling, the Jew grasped both drapes, then swiftly shifted them apart, immediately allowing a dazzling light from the morning sun to pour into the room.

Kyle cursed, having to take a minute and put a hand over his face so his eyes could readjust to the bright beams. He squinted, pressing his face against the glass to get a better look once his vision cleared.

And a better look Kyle got. He felt himself take in a sharp inhale of air.

"Holy fucking _shit,_ dude."

An unclothed Stan had joined him by the window sometime, peering out as well, with the same look of disbelief. No, this certainly _wasn't_ their white trash mountain town.

The two teens looked out the window like kids outside a candy store shop. Bebe couldn't help but roll her eyes. It was then when Kyle realized that they stood not at windows, but a double glass door, which led outside to a small, rounded balcony.

Kyle suddenly found himself unable to think -- just move as if he were under a trance. Before he could comprehend his actions, the redhead found his hand pushing it open, and a blink later, he stood outside at the railing's edge, Stan by his side. A slight breeze wafted past him, playfully tickling the redhead's cheeks while slightly ruffling the auburn curls atop his head.

Kyle continued to gaze in awe at the scene before him because they stood fucking _high._

Alright, enough build-up. First of all, they were sitting in some type of canyon -- both a deep and wide canyon. Yeah, like the Grand one, except rather than red, orange desert rock - green, flourishing _trees_ of every kind filled up the space for miles, making up some kind of forest canyon. Well, ok, a complete forest if one ignored the town filled with houses. That's what they were, right? Kyle couldn't think of anything else they could be. Though, maybe cottages were the better term? Yeah, 'cause they certainly weren't anything he'd seen in his town the average modern home.

But yeah, hundreds of nice shops and little cottages stood strong surrounded by the trees, as well as what looked to be a stone path for its residents to walk down. Speaking of, what was crazier, was that Kyle could see _people._ Well, more likely elves, as weird as that sounded. He couldn't see their ears of course, but it felt obvious. And They were there, just… living their lives, like nothing was out of the ordinary. Going into shops, chatting, waving, and there was also what looked to be children running around — shit, this fantasy village already seemed more normal and friendly than South Park (not exactly a high bar to pass, but still).

Oh, and then there was the waterfall.

A fucking _waterfall._

It was a good distance away - started down at the end of the greenery canyon - but that truly testified to how _huge_ it was. With a squint, Kyle could make out the misty spray forming around the spring as the water crashed down, rising above the tall plant life. And while he couldn't see one, Kyle assumed a river of some kind ran through the nearby forest and into the large fountain which stood at the village's (village was no longer feeling like the right word) very center. He couldn't help but briefly wondered what kind of engineering the residents used to accomplish what seemed to be a good water system.

"So, do you believe me now?"

Snapped out of his gawking, Kyle turned, only to find Bebe standing there, her arms crossed, an "I Told You Idiots So" expression resting comfortably on her face. Damn did she look full of herself - though Kyle supposed he couldn't blame her after all that back-and-forth they all did. Kyle merely grunted in response.

Wait.

They.

Right, Stan was still here.

The raven-haired teen hadn't reacted to the interruption. He still stood rooted, wide eyes continuing to gaze over the view over and over again as if he were reading over a book's most unforeseen sentence. Kyle wouldn't be surprised if his friend had gone into shock again.

Bebe then walked up to the two of them, sighing. "Alright listen, I'm convinced that you guys truly don't know anything about your lives here. We're already late as it is, so for now, you two _cannot_ talk with the Council - or anyone else here who isn't me."

Kyle blinked. "Council?"

Bebe ignored the question. "It's a really bad time for them to think this, but I'm just going to tell them that you two are under the weather and can't think straight. So Just… please, stay here until I get this fixed." The blond then turned, making her way towards the door.

Oh, hell no he wasn't about to let her walk away after saying that vague shit. With that thought, the redhead quickly grasped her hand, feeling determination suddenly rush through him.

She turned and glared. "Kyle, let g -- "

"Bebe," he pressed with his own hard glare. "I swear to god I am _this_ close -- " (he nearly pinched his finger and thumb together in a demonstration) " -- to flipping the fuck out and jumping off the railing to see if I'll wake up." Her eyes widened in horror at the threat. Kyle almost felt bad, but he kept going. "And the only reason I haven't is because I'm with assholes I recognize. But I hardly know shit right now. You mentioned Cartman earlier -- why do you think he cursed us?" Kyle really, really, _really_ didn't want to believe this was all because of some other -- somehow possibly worse version -- of that sadistic fatass, but as he'd realized earlier, the Jew was really starting to run out of other options. If it meant torturing or humiliating him, Kyle certainly couldn't discard the idea.

Bebe stayed silent for what seemed like forever. She was now staring hard at the floor, and her lips were pursed in a frustrating manner as she seemed to ruminate over the redhead's words.

Finally, she clasped both his hands, causing Kyle's breathing to hitch. She gazed up at him, but to his complete surprise, not a shred of anger could be found on her doll-like face. In fact, the blond looked closer to being on the verge of _tears,_ like someone incredibly dear had been snatched from her grasp.

_But in a way - hadn't they?_

"I'm sorry you're both confused... and probably scared," she began, keeping her voice steady and strong. "But as I said, I'm going to find a way to fix this, so I don't want you to worry about anything that's going on here right now. I'm going to do all the research I can in our library, and… if… if I haven't found a solution," the words sounded incredibly bitter, but she pushed through, "then I'll tell you all you want to know, but for now -- please, _please --_ just stay _here."_

Kyle merely stared, not knowing _what_ to say.

"I know it's not my place to give you of all elves orders, so please try not to see like that. Just… think of it as a request from your childhood friend, ok?"

Well, Kyle hadn't exactly thought Bebe was --

Hold the fuck up.

What?

Kyle continued to stare at her and her stone-solid serious expression, suddenly at a loss for words just as he felt so confident in himself about trying to get clear answers.

Though one thing stuck out.

_Your friend._

Bebe? His friend? Kyle's _childhood_ friend?

Damn, he really wasn't in his world, was he?

"I… uh…" the redhead felt his voice crack. "Ok," he confirmed without really thinking.

The blond sighed. "Thank you, Your Highness." And before Kyle could gather all his scrambled thoughts together, the blond once again walked away. Though, right before she went through the double-doors, Bebe stopped and casually said, "I get it if you two need to find comfort in each other because of everything -- just keep it quiet."

Kyle blinked, playing her last word back. Wait, did she mean --

"What -"

Bebe then left, leaving Kyle alone with his _actual_ childhood friend.

"The fuck..." he seethed out airily to basically no one.

After a moment, the redhead took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

It didn't work.

 _Curse. Curse. Curse._ The word rang through Kyle's head over and over again, refusing to echo away. Yeah, after that confusing ordeal, it definitely seemed all but confirmed now.

A moan interrupted the Jew's thoughts.

He turned, only to again see Stan still by the railing, except now his chest rested on the bar, and his arms dangled loosely over the edge, same with the teen's head of black hair.

 _Oh, I guess he actually_ ** _did_** _faint from stress._ Ha. Well, wasn't that just great? Stan would eventually wake up, and when he did, the teen would probably think the last ten minutes were and dream. Then Kyle would have to do his best to explain, "No, my friend, it seems that we in fact _have_ woken up on another planet where I'm an elf." Ugh. Hopefully, Kyle could keep his best friend from again passing out, and this wouldn't turn into a cycle.

Sighing for the thousandth time, the redhead went over to the raven-haired teen. _Oh. Even better,_ he thought as Kyle's eyes landed on some kind of chunky liquid dribbling down Stan's chin which then dripped down the railing. Stan had apparently thrown up some time ago. He hadn't done _that_ in a while. Kyle looked over the bar but was unable to see where it'd landed. Hopefully not on an unsuspecting denizen.

The redhead then grabbed his friend from underneath his arms, then promptly dragged Stan and his unsheathed dead-weight back to his bed as fast as he could (which wasn't very fast, since Kyle had greatly underestimated the weight of a bare unconscious body).

Once Stan lay peacefully(?) on his (again ?) bed with a cleaned-up mouth, Kyle all but collapsed onto a nearby chair. He sat there for a while, playing off-handedly with his strange new pointed ear. After running through his confusing thoughts once again, Kyle glanced up, gazing around at the neat, blue room and the multiple maps hanging from its walls. But one thing which caught his eye was a single bookcase, located in the room's corner.

Well, if he was going to be here all day…

Kyle got up and pulled out the first one he saw.

_"A Soldier's Guide to Camouflage in Unusual Terrains"_

Kyle sighed. Definitely not his thing, but the redhead really wasn't in the mood to scour the other weird stuff "Stan" apparently owned.

The Jew then flopped back down on the plush chair, allowing his mind to take a break if nothing more than a few hours through the pages.


	3. Well That Escalated Quickly

Bebe needed to keep herself calm

It obviously wasn’t easy. They’d gone behind her back. Again. She just knew it. If something was wrong with Kyle then the same thing was probably wrong with Stan, because that’s just how they _were_. Bebe didn’t know what they’d done exactly, but considering their current state, undoubtedly something she, or any of his Council (or probably any Elven citizen with a brain) wouldn’t approve of.

Especially since Bebe couldn’t shake the thought that this had something to do with the Wizard (she absolutely _refused_ to use the word "Grand" to describe the walking piece of blubber).

What idiots. 

The understatement of the millennium.

But at the end of the day, no matter how pissed off she felt, the young elf knew she had to swallow down her lividness, keep her cool, and go with it - at least for now. 

Still, as the weight of the situation began to settle in, Bebe felt her pace pick up, syncing to the beat of her pounding heart as she hastened down the halls, low heels lightly _clicking_ against the tile.

 _I can fix this,_ the blond reassured herself again as she turned a corner. All she had to do was tell the High Council the king was unfortunately “sick,” that Stan was watching over him, get away without much questioning, then go to the library and find a cure for whatever that damned wizard did to them (Bebe didn’t have any proof that the culprit was the fat wart, but the burning hatred in her small gut wouldn’t allow her to believe anything else).

This inconvenience would be solved in less than a day.

Bebe held onto that thought like a lifeline until she finally reached the Council’s headquarters. She didn’t even address the guards standing by, and instead darted right past their startled faces before practically smashing the doors open with her bare palms.

From the round stone table in the room’s center, each member's attention snapped away from whatever they were discussing before, eyes wide and clearly startled.

“Gods bless Zaron!” High Druid Victoria gaped, eyes the largest saucers of all, even behind her black-rimmed glasses. “Young lady — what happened?”

“Yes,” High Healer Fran added more calmly. “And where is the king and his ranger? If memory serves correct, just thirty minutes ago, you said you’d fetch them - insisting that they must’ve merely overslept?”

High Seer Garrison scoffed. “Probably had a _busy_ night with each other, huh?”

Bebe chose to ignore the old crow and instead join her comrades at the table to explain herself. She quickly smoothed out her golden curls and ruby dress the best she could before sitting down in her seat, left of the absent king. The mostly empty plates of breakfast in front of annoyed frowns indicated that she’d been gone for too long. Bebe hadn’t bothered to eat anything earlier, and two other plates of food beside hers sat untouched and long cold.

Knowing she could no longer stall, Bebe cleared her throat, and sat up, making sure her posture was firm, professional, and confident. “Apologies my fellow Councilors — and apologies from His Majesty and ranger as well.”

While everyone at the table glanced at one another with confusion, High Mage McDaniels spoke first, raising an eyebrow. “Apologies from the king? Care to explain where Larnion's two most important figures are?”

The blond elf felt her fingernails nearly tear through her expensive dress. 

_Stay calm. In the name of all Zaron, stay fucking calm, Bebe._

_“_ Unfortunately,” she began in an even voice, “our king has fallen a little ill this morning. Thus, for the time being, will be unable to --”

“ _Ill?!_ ” Victoria blurted out. “Ill with what?”

“Probably syphilis,” Garrison muttered to himself.

“Why would you not immediately call me down?” Calm Fran added, sounding and looking both quite offended.

 _Steady breaths. Steady breaths._ Bebe had endured far worse questioning and accusations than even this unfortunate predicament.

“Nothing worth fretting over, High Healer, I can assure you. Though I apologize for not calling you to check. However, I didn’t think it was at all needed, as I know with certainty that it is merely a fever from exhaustion, which unfortunately leaves him unable to leave bed. Ranger Marshwalker is standing guard, so if anything bad happens, he’ll be able to alert you.”

Fran still looked reasonably upset for her absence. “Are you claiming to be better at my job than me?”

Bebe shook her head. “Of course not, High Healer, but even an elfling could see that it was nothing to be concerned about. Our king is strong, but I imagine even he could use a longer morning because of high stress.” She hated admitting such a simple weakness about their leader, but Bebe couldn’t let it sound like something too serious that would last more than a day.

“And the High Ranger didn’t bother telling us himself?” McDaniel’s queried.

Bebe put on a confused, innocent frown. “I don’t see why that is hard to believe -- it is Ranger Marshwalker’s job to always stay by his king’s side. They are usually together more than half the day.”

“And half the night,”the seer’s slimy voice interjected with a sneer.

The blood elf seethed out a hot, frustrated breath, the last jab causing her to slightly break character. She shot him a fiery glare, though she kept her tone icily calm. “Garrison, I hope you are aware that it doesn’t matter whether Kyle and Stanley are here or not -- you do not speak that way.”

The older man rolled his eyes as if the third in command was merely a school student with a bad mouth he’d grown accustomed to. “Ah, my sincerest apologies noble _High Warrior,_ for our unjust, and rather, apostate speculation for why the king and his… oh... _special knight_ , suddenly can’t make it out of their beds… to much excitement, perhaps?”

 _“High Seer Garrison.”_ it was McDaniels who spoke before Bebe could sink her nails through the rat’s eyes. Her tone was unaggressive yet firm. “There is no proof of those claims, and if our king is unwell, then even what you claim is true, certainly isn’t what our main focus - as his advisors - should be on.”

Bebe gave the older, teal-haired mage a small smile of gratitude, which the other returned.

Garrison said nothing else, simply letting out a frustrated huff before leaning back into his seat, arms folded in disdain. Bebe could make out his middle finger tapping listlessly, as if the limb itself were considering whether or not to flip the young elf warrior off.

Bebe couldn’t say she’d actually be opposed, since it’d be an excuse to kick him and his twisted old ass out for -- a simple term -- lack of respect.

Fran brought the blond out of her thoughts. “I’d still like to go and check on him.”

_Shit._

Bebe head snapped to the healer, an excuse coming out of her lips before she could think. “Thank you, Healer Fran, for showing such concern, even for such a small matter, but if I recall, you have a very important class of new healers in training to teach about human-ridden diseases at Early Sun, do you not?”

“Well, yes but --”

“Well as King Kyle’s official third in command, I insist that you go and attend the task you were called to do -- it’s nearly that time and I know that is what our king would want. Besides, young elves need to know these things more than ever.” 

Fran’s grimace deepened ten-fold. She still looked like she wanted to argue, so the blond quickly added -- “And I promise, I’ll alert you before anyone else if their condition worsens.” 

“So nobody else is with them?” Victoria asked.

“No, they’re alone.” Bebe felt her smile tighten like clothing wires being drawn (and also ignored the purposefully loud scoff from Garrison) “Stan stood guard for most of the night, and we agreed it’d be best for now, if he quarantined with his king. He made me stay six feet away when I checked.” 

The rest of the Council fell silent (well, except for High Merchant Jason Whitewealth, who Bebe almost forgot about since he stayed quiet throughout the whole ordeal, and usually wouldn’t speak unless prompted). Bebe could’ve sworn she saw the mixture of information brewing inside each of their heads, the explanations they’d been given determining what their outcome of words would be.

If they all decided to ignore her orders and check on the two idiots, Bebe would be screwed. She’d only lied because the kingdom believing their king was sick for a day was honestly better than them thinking he was a nutcase. Bebe also believed she could fix what had happened by sundown, and that this would only be a minor setback. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they discovered a Stan and Kyle who cussed openly like drunk gnomes, or burst a button because of their _ears._

Just as Bebe feared Garrison had decided to argue again and convince the others to ignore her, Fran let out a tired sigh, then stood up, staring the blond straight in the eye.

“I trust you, Bebe, and I trust in my king’s strength” she stated in a sincere tone, “and I know the king trusts you as well, so I’ll let them be.”

Bebe all but beamed from relief, trying not to sound _too_ relieved. “Oh, thank you High Hea -- “

“But as soon as I’m done, I’m checking on the king and his ranger.” she cut off, voice suddenly sharp and unwavering, like a scythe through Bebe’s corn of alleviation. “It should only take a couple of hours.”

Bebe felt her throat run dry. She wanted to refuse, but the blond elf knew that she’d pretty much pushed her status to its maximum. Denying the _High Healer_ any permission to see the king when he was _sick_ would undoubtedly paint her hands red.

“Alright,” Bebe caved, voice not-at-all hoarse, “that would be perfect.” Deciding to worry about it later, the blond then turned her attention to the rest of the Council. “In his Majesty’s place, I hereby call this meeting adjourned.” 

Garrison spluttered in disbelief. “Meeting? _What_ meeting? We discussed nothing of importance!”

“The king’s health is certainly the kingdom’s top priority, High Seer,” McDaniels reminded him.

The balding elf seethed, filter clearly dried up. “I know that, but don’t you id… _fellow Council_ members think it’s a tad bit suspicious how _she’s_ always the one always making excuses for them? How do we actually know they’re not up there f --”

Bebe snapped, slamming her fist against the table. **_“That’s enough, Garrison!”_**

The meeting room went silent.

Bebe took a deep breath and ran a tired hand down her face, regaining composure. “I’m sorry, Council, but those accusations of our king, especially behind his back, do not belong here. King Kyle is only going to miss _one_ meeting out of dozens he’s attended about every day. I understand tensions are high, but this minor inconvenience is certainly not the end of the world. I think you can all testify King Kyle and Ranger Stan have acted nothing but professionally around one another.”

Bebe could’ve sworn there was a brief pause - blink and you’d miss it - before each member nodded (except Garrison, of course). She dearly hoped she’d imagined it.

Nevertheless, the warrior nodded.“Good.” Bebe then stood and picked up the two untouched plates. “I wish you all a good rest of the day. Come see me if anything else is on your mind.”

With that, the young elf gave a dutiful bow, turned around, and left.

* * *

Well, not longer after Bebe left, Stan in fact had woken up, and Kyle once again had to calm his friend down and recite most of what Bebe had told him. Thankfully, that didn’t take too long (Stan didn’t vomit again either, which was also a plus). Kyle had to admit though, he was surprised how _Stan_ had been the one to freak out more than him since he considered the latter to usually be the most laid-back of their group. 

Then again, Kyle reminded himself, if COVID or the move proved anything, it was that Stan was also the kind of guy who liked the constants in his life to be stacked on a nice little shelf (or crammed together in a locker) and not be bothered, usually throwing a bitch fit if someone tried to take those constants away or move them.

So now the two boys sat in (apparently) Stan’s room, with the man himself pacing back and forth, brows scrunched down in deep thought. Thankfully, he was now fully dressed. Once Stan had finally decided to get his ass out of bed, he’d discovered a closet (fucking huge closet). After about ten minutes of tearing through every piece of clothing to find something that resembled any modern attire, and failing, the raven-haired teen was practically forced to dress in an outfit (of course) closely resembling his role-playing costume, except without the helmet or cape.

“So we’re not hallucinating.” He attempted to clarify after many minutes of pacing.

“No,” Kyle answered blankly, already back to be this book.

“We’re not dreaming.” 

“No.”

“Not a drug trip.”

Kyle snorted. “If this is a drug trip then I want more of whatever the joint is.” 

Stan stopped his pacing, then glared. “Why the hell are you so fucking _calm_ about all this?”

Kyle shrugged, turning a page. “I don’t fucking know. Why the hell are _you_ flipping out?” 

Stan stared at him as if Kyle were crazy, clearly exasperated. _“What?_ Why wouldn’t I? We’re on another planet for fucks sake!”

“I mean, like, yeah, it’s fucking _weird,_ but…” the Jew sighed. “I guess I’ve been thinking it over, and like, objectively -- this really isn’t the _weird_ ** _est_** thing that’s happened to us, you know?” he admitted, putting emphasis on _est._

Stan breathed out haughtily, in a way that said Kyle’s logic hadn’t helped. “Fuck dude… I… I get that but… I... I dunno… we just… we don’t know _why_ or fucking _how…_ and seeing your stoner expression is making _me_ feel like a crackhead cuz _I’m_ already freaking out... _”_ Stan’s voice trailed off, but he continued to mumble, seeming to forget that Kyle was there with him.

The redhead couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Dude, come on. This isn't like you. We’ve literally been to space and a demon lord’s evil dimension. And I’m not saying this isn’t concerning, but like… freaking out like your fucking Tweek Tweak won’t solve anything.”

The raven-haired teen folded his arms then bit at his lip. Kyle thought he was going to argue more, but he eventually let out a reluctant sigh of defeat. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Sorry dude.”

“S’alright.” Kyle didn’t consider himself the best at keeping his emotions in check, but he was also logical, and the redhead could logically see that the two of them flipping their shit right now would only make their predicament worse for everyone. 

With only silence filling the air between them, Kyle went back to his book.

He only got about a page further.

“I just…” (Kyle let out a small huff) “I don’t know why, but this… it just feels _different_ than all those other times.”

“Isn’t it a bit too early to say that?”

Stan didn’t reply.

With a sigh, Kyle put down his reading, then went over to his friend, who was looking down at the marble floor with a hard glare, as if it’d somehow give him an answer. 

“Hey dude.”

Stan looked up (ok, fine, more like down since Kyle was only a few inches shorter, shut up) and… fuck, the sight of the scar still made the redhead’s stomach roll over itself for a reason Kyle couldn’t put into words. Nevertheless, Kyle swallowed down his uneasiness and put on a small smile.

“Come on man, look at my fucking ears. You really think this isn’t fucked up for me too?”

Stan scoffed, though it was immediately followed by a small chuckle. “You do kinda look like a drunk twink on a Friday night after sex in a slutty hotel -- who then decided to roleplay as the twink elf king of all elf twinks.”

Kyle laughed, grateful that they could still joke. “Pfft… fuck you, dick. You should see your face.” he jabbed back lightheartedly, realizing all but too late that his friend had yet to have seen his new reflection.

The smile immediately dropped from said-face, his expression snapping to dead-serious. “My face?”

Kyle felt his mind go blank. “Uhhhhh…”

_Fuck._

“Kyle, what’s wrong with my face?”

At that moment, Jew’s lips decided to snap shut and refuse entrance.

_It’s just a scar, pussy. Ugh, stop it. Stop staring! Open your loud shitty mouth and tell him he just has a fucking scar._

“N-nothing!” the redhead found himself fibbing. “I-I mean… nothing _that_ bad, but --”

Stan pushed Kyle away, mumbling curses under his breath. Apparently impatient enough to not bother finding a mirror, the raven-haired teen immediately went up to the balcony window. Kyle knew he must’ve been able to see it, since soon an audible **“** ** _THE FUCK.”_** could be heard from where he was standing. 

The redhead hesitated for a moment before ultimately going up to his friend, who now had a hand rubbing at the torn skin as if (like Kyle had) thought it was some kind of makeup.

Of course, it didn’t come off.

“Uh, Stan --”

“Dude!” he shouted with an accusing tone as he whipped around, glaring. “You didn’t think to tell me about this?”

Kyle shrugged helplessly. “It’s just a scar, man! It kinda seemed like the least of our worries. Besides, you --” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know” Stan interrupted with an eye roll, then went on in a mocking voice. “I’ve already had vaginitis and literal pussies break out all over me, so this is _no big deal_ in comparison.”

Silence.

Kyle broke it off with an awkward cough. “Well, I was just gonna say that you at least didn’t have to _feel_ where it came from, but that works too I guess.”

Stan’s face flushed red so fast one may have thought all the blood in his body teleported. He gave Kyle a hard shoulder shove. “Fuck you!”

The redhead barked out a laugh, pushing back. “Hey, I’m not the one who admitted to having a puss-face!”

“I did not, asshole! You were leading me on and you know it!”

“Ah, well, let’s hope they got plenty of meat here, or else --”

_“Ahem.”_

Both boys practically leaped out from their skin, before spinning around to see who’d just potentially heard that conversation out of context.

It was Bebe.

“O-oh uh…” he pretended to clear his throat, putting on the fakest smile someone had ever faked. “H-hey Bebe.” _How long has she been standing there? How much of that did she_ ** _hear?!_** Kyle glanced at Stan, only to see that his friend’s embarrassment had tripled by ten, his face somehow now closer to a shade of purple.

Well, if Bebe had eavesdropped on them, she didn’t make it clear. The curly-haired blond simply walked up to the boys, expression unreadable, with a plate of food in each hand. 

“Here,” she offered, holding them out. “Breakfast.”

Stan took it without much thought, seeming grateful for the subject change. Kyle however, being the skeptic he was, couldn’t help but scan over the items before he decided whether or not to take it: two large pieces of whole-wheat toast, with what looked to be a dark strawberry jam spread evenly over the top, which to his amazement, glistened as if they were a gem in the sun. An arrangement of fruits, to blueberries, raspberries, kiwis, and grapes took up the other half, looking like they weren’t a day over perfectly picked. Kyle also noticed how the fruits were set up in color-coordinated ways, each resting in the perfect position against one another, honestly resembling a piece of art more than food. 

“Do you not know how to take something either?” Bebe questioned in a flat tone, which made it impossible to tell if she was serious.

Kyle’s head snapped back up, his eyes meeting her half-lidded, drained orbs.

“Uh…” realizing she’d probably been holding the dish out for a while, the redhead reluctantly took the plate. “Thanks.” He glanced over at Stan’s and -- wow, ok. Someone thought he needed protein. Half of his plate held the fluffiest, yellowest eggs Kyle had ever laid eyes on, with some kind of intricate seasoning mixed in. A bowl of nuts also occupied the space, as well as… some kind of lighter _purple_ sliced fruit he’d never seen before, though it mainly resembled mango.

Kyle couldn’t help himself with the next dumb question. Yes, out of all the shit happening, _this_ is what he questioned the most. Perhaps it was simply because the Jew realized how hungry he was becoming, and while no longer fresh, Stan’s eggs looking fucking _good_. “How come he gets eggs?”

Bebe blinked and stared.

She blinked and stared at the Jew as if Kyle had just slapped her straight across the face, or she was currently looking at the dumbest person alive. The redhead knew instantly he must’ve said something wrong again.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Uh…” Kyle looked back down at his own food, unsure of how to answer. “No?”

The blond simply rolled her eyes, turning around. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving now.”

“Hey, wait!” It was Stan who suddenly spoke up and went after the bitchy blond this time, as he quickly set down his breakfast on a small table. Kyle did the same.“How long are we gonna be here?”

Bebe stopped, though she didn’t bother turning around. “I don’t know, but now I only have until High Sun to fix this.”

“Fix… us? Or send us back?” Kyle asked carefully. 

“I’m going to the library.” She went on. “High Healer Fran will be here in a couple of hours. The Council bought that Kyle was sick from exhaustion or something — barely. If she comes up, Kyle’s asleep. Nothing more.” The blond then looked over her shoulder, glaring at the boys with a force of a thousand ice shards. “ _Don’t_ talk.”

Alright, that was it. Kyle couldn’t help it. Even if he had his theories, it didn’t change the fact that he sat in a place he hardly knew anything about, and Bebe continued to dismiss their questions since they were things he should “already know,” and frankly, he didn’t see how staying cooped up inside a room all day would solve anything.

“Wherever you’re going, you should let us come.”

An aghast _“What?”_ came from both parties.

Kyle stepped up to the blond. “It would probably be better if we had more people researching this shit. You said you were gonna ‘figure out a way' to send us home, so it doesn’t sound like you know exactly _how.”_

Bebe scowled, her gaze shifting away. “What home? _Earth_?”

Kyle frowned, annoyed. “I thought we already established that’s where we’re from.”

“We still don’t know that for sure,” she argued stubbornly, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself. “I’m no magic expert, but I’ve never heard of a spell for interdimensional travel -- I heard your conversation earlier. You two are practically insane. Your heads were probably screwed up.” 

“Thanks,” Stan muttered from a distance.

Oh. Ha. _Ha._ _Perfect._ So they were back to square fucking one, and after all the fucking bickering they’d done less than an hour ago.

Still, Kyle put his hands up, giving in. “Ok, _fine._ Let’s say this magic bullshit is real and you _do_ whip up some kind of anti-crazy drug -- what do you plan on doing if it doesn’t work?”

Bebe rolled her eyes and scoffed, dismissing the question entirely. “I don’t have time for this -- I now have less than two hours to get _your_ idiotic asses back to normal, because whether you remember or not, _you_ went behind the Council’s back during the worst possible time and got hexed.” She jabbed a long nail into the redhead’s chest with each “ _you.”_

Kyle began to fume. He had tried his damndest to be patient with this bullshit, but he now felt as though he’d finally been pushed off that last cliff. Now the stress or whatever other shitty emotions he felt were making his breathing uneven and chest hurt.“Well, you’ll be wasting your own _precious_ time because one - we aren’t crazy, and two - what’s exactly keeping us from running loose, huh?”

“Uh, Kyle?” Stan spoke, sounding slightly concerned. Kyle ignored him.

Bebe’s light eyebrows rose in complete shock from the threat, before scrunching down in rage. “I just risked my reputation so you assholes wouldn’t get caught!” 

“We didn’t ask you to do that!” he forced out. God, Kyle knew he was stressed, but why was his chest feeling so damn _tight?_ It was only beginning to feel worse, as if there were an invisible fist _squeezing_ his insides together. Still, the redhead’s stubbornness refused to let him back down.

_“Kyle.”_

“What else was I supposed to do? You think I need all of Larnion thinking that their king’s gone off his rocker?”

“For the millionth time, we’re _not --”_

 **“** **_KYLE_ ** **.”**

The Jew’s screaming came to a screeching halt, only for Kyle to immediately whirl around to face his friend, still pissed, and still feeling like any moment he could literally explode. 

_“What?”_ He seethed out, voice suddenly callus because _fucking damn this shit_ was his blood starting to _boil._ Almost literally. His insides may as well have been on fire at this point.

Before Stan could answer, Bebe let out an audible gasp, the both of them looking at him as if he’d grown a third eye.

Well, now he was pissed _and_ confused. Kyle opened his mouth to ask what the fuck was wrong, but found that nothing came out.

Because a second later, the previously tolerable pain erupted like millions of mini geysers over every inch of his body.

Kyle felt his throat practically choke on air around him as his knees gave up and he collapsed, wanting to scream, but immediately realized that he _couldn’t._ It was as though a sock had been lodged into his mouth and shoved down to his chest, causing this excruciating fucking painful _pressure_ to grow inside him.

 _“KYLE!”_ Stan shouted in horror, already rushing over to his friend, reaching a hand towards his trembling body.

Unfortunately for him, Bebe was quicker, and beat the raven-haired teen to his goal, before forcefully slapping his hand away.

Stan’s sharp blue eyes erupted into dangerous flames. _“BEBE WHAT THE --”_

 _“_ If you value you safety at all, _don’t_ touch him!” the blond roared in the most deadly serious tone Stan had ever heard.

Stan merely shook his head in an outraged disbelief. He was probably going to try and get past her, but in a blink, Bebe had yanked the front of Stan’s brown shirt down so their faces were at the same level, nearly. Perhaps Kyle would’ve been able to hear what she told him, but the feeling of something trying to rip through his chest, only caused the redhead to groan and squeeze his eyes shut.

It was no longer just pain. It now felt as though there was this force... no... this raw _energy_ trapped inside his body, swirling about like a burst of fiery-filled wind as it roamed through every part of Kyle’s interior crevices, desperately to get out by traveling to the very edges of the shaking Jew’s body. So the worst of his anguish pounded at the center of his chest and fingertips.

Kyle wanted it to _stop,_ but more than that, he wanted it _out._ He’d gone through weird, abnormal renewals before, but never something that made his fingers feel like corks holding back a bullet at full-force. 

_God, I’m actually gonna fucking explode, aren’t I?_ He managed to think. Ha. Wouldn’t Cartman love being here for that?

Another jab at his chest caused the Jew to forget about the humorously nihilistic thoughts, only to again keel over. It was then, however, that Kyle realized someone was talking to him.

Somehow managing to just barely open his stinging eyes, Kyle could make out the face of Stan - just Stan, with Bebe nowhere to be found - who had knelt down next to his friend, though like Bebe advised, wasn’t touching him. The ravenhead’s mouth was moving fast, though Kyle couldn’t at all make out the words, pain drowning them out.

He did, however, pick up the _slamming_ of the room’s door being pushed open, and just moments later, Bebe was kneeling in front of him as well - though she had something in her hands.

A stick. Well, no, Kyle managed to realize through his daze mind. It was a staff - or some kind of scepter. A long, elegant wooden staff with complex yet worn-out patterns carved into it, running up the wooden skin from bottom to top. Kyle had no fucking clue how, but after another flare of pressurizing pain in his fingers, he was _still_ able to almost clearly observe the rest of the tool, as if it were just it and him in a dark space. The staff wasn’t just some hunk of fancy wood, as it had some kind of three-pointed, golden piece (perhaps in the shape of a symbol?) lodged into its top, as well as a beautiful azure gem placed perfectly in the golden piece’s center.

Somehow, if only for a moment, it nearly made him forget about the excruciating painful contents trying to fight their way out of his body.

Bebe’s pleading voice broke Kyle out from his trance, and also returned him to pain. Kyle once again moaned, yet this time, he could hear what the blond was saying to him. Barely.

“Staff… take… take your…your… _take it. Please!”_ She was still holding it out to him, so close now that it was practically touching the redhead’s nose.

 _Take it?_ Kyle thought but couldn’t say aloud. _Why?_

Well, what was the worst thing taking a stick could do? Kyle was probably going to combust all over the room any minute, so if in his final moments, Bebe wanted him to hold a piece of wood, Kyle supposed he could.

So with an embarrassing amount of effort, the Jew reached his shaking, trembling hands out, just managing to clench the staff in both.

Multiple things happened next.

First, once Kyle had the staff in his grip, he noticed why Bebe and Stan had probably freaked out, since he got a clear view of his hands.

Kyle was _glowing._

A soft, bluish-green light was rising off of the Jew’s skin like some kind of mystical mist over a pond. Perhaps back at home, Kyle would’ve absolutely flipped his shit, yet right now, both the pain was too much for him to give a damn, plus today had already been enough of a shitstorm.

Second, though the tightness in his chest and throbbing of his fingers was certainly still there, it lessened by a considerable amount. At least enough that the Jew no longer felt as if he were going to explode — more like a bottle of shaken soda, with someone slowly releasing the carbonation built up.

“Kyle,” the voice of Bebe suddenly became clear. “If you can hear me, then _please —_ you need to transfer your magic into your staff.”

Magic? Ok, yeah, even Kyle the paranormal dismisser couldn’t think of another explanation. But the redhead hadn’t a clue on exactly _how_ to transfer said “magic” he was apparently emitting in the branch.

As though reading his mind, Bebe answered. “Focus the energy inside you into your hands and let it out into your staff — slowly.”

Kyle was still confused by what she meant exactly since it sounded like something a stereotypical weed hippie would say, but he ultimately thought _Fuck it — what else am I gonna try and do?_

Going off his instincts alone, the Jew began to “search” for that raging energy within him, thinking hard about how he wanted it to go to his hands and out. It almost felt like another muscle as it listened, or a mischief of mice racing through dark tunnels to their one way for freedom. Unfortunately, the process was fast, and against Bebe’s instructions, Kyle couldn’t slow it down, and it soon became overwhelming. Whatever was going on inside him, he wanted it _out,_ and _it_ wanted out.

Kyle clenched his teeth in concentration, soon forgetting about Stan and Bebe as the staff’s pale blue gem began to glow brilliantly, the bluish mist fading off his skin, and no longer feeling as if there was a straining pressure trying to tear his body apart.

It was only when he felt a hand on his shoulder, when Kyle snapped out of the process, flinching away.

“You did it, Kyle,” Bebe told him.

The redhead blinked blearily as if just waking up. He then realized he was no longer glowing, and that previous agonizing pain was completely gone, as though it’d never been there. 

“Kyle,” she again said. “you need to slow your breathing.”

And suddenly, the Jew found his voice. _“Breathing?”_ He exclaimed exasperatedly, voice hoarse. “Who cares about my breathing? What the _fuck_ was that? I… I…” Kyle again choked, breaking into a cough.

Stan was suddenly at his side, helping Kyle to not collapse again while rubbing a reassuring hand against his friend’s back. 

Bebe bowed her head, looking nothing but ashamed, which was a strange expression on her. “I… I’m so sorry, my Lord… I should’ve made sure you had your scepter as soon as you awakened... but… after everything that’s happened, I… I just didn’t think… to —”

 _“Shut up,”_ the Jew groaned, fed up. “I don’t give a fuck about how sorry you are, just fucking answer _one_ of my god damn questions.”

Bebe bit at her lip, seeming unsure of what to say.

“Well?” Stan queried before Kyle could ask the same thing.

Bebe sighed. “It’s why he’s been cooped up here for most of his life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy to be updating again. This chapter ended up being longer than expected, but I hope it's still interesting. I'd always love to hear what you thought. Have a good day!


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